Christmas Gifts: Small Town ChristmasHer Christmas Cowboy

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  No, the real question was what would Amy do?

  Chapter Three

  Amy leaned her shoulder against the dining room doorway and watched her grandmother baking cookies with the twins. Worried about her relationship with the girls and her role as their teacher, Amy had made herself scarce while Grams kept an eye on them Saturday morning. She’d been cordial but stayed busy in her room, studying the textbooks and working on her lesson plans for Monday.

  The twins fell into step with her grandmother without trauma. Surprised that they showed so much respect, Amy observed what Grams did, hoping to note what made the difference. She’d need to find a way to work with the twins and keep them together in the class. She wanted the opportunity to express her opinion to Mike.

  She’d observed the girls’ constant wavering love/hate relationship. Competition created the problem, plus their lack of…what? What caused their need for negative attention. Mike seemed like a caring father. Maybe too caring. He tended to let them get away with a little too much. Sometimes a single parent tried to make up for the lack of the other parent by giving in to the wrong things.

  Would Mike accept her help? If she said something, he could easily take it as criticism. She drew up her shoulders and released a breath. Fearing the girls might notice her, she backed away from the door and checked her watch. Mike said he should arrive home about noon—only minutes away.

  Amy wandered to one of the front windows and looked toward the blue house. His wife chose the color, he’d said. Were his feelings still raw? According to Grams, it had been about three years since Mike’s wife had died. Death of a spouse lay beyond her experience. She couldn’t even imagine. And the poor girls. So young.

  Seeing the empty driveway, she let the curtain drop, but as she did, a movement caught her eye. She looked again as Mike pulled toward the garage in the back of his yard and slid from his sedan. Hearing their murmuring voices in the kitchen, the girls were still preoccupied and that would give her a chance to slip across the road and talk with Mike before they realized he was home.

  She tiptoed to the kitchen doorway, caught Grams’s attention and signaled she was going out. Grams nodded, and involved with the cookies, the girls hadn’t noticed. Her jacket hung in the front closet, and she slipped it on and exited through the front door. She grasped the rake she’d left on the porch and bounded down the front steps. A few additional leaves had drifted from the trees, but the yard still looked neat.

  Mike had already gone inside as she crossed the road. Now that she’d made her move, she realized she might be rushing him, but her mission overrode her manners. As she approached the porch steps, the side door opened, and Mike gave her a wave. “You must be anxious to get the leaves raked.”

  She grinned back, admiring him in his dressy pants, cream-colored shirt and maroon tie. “I sneaked away without the twins noticing. I thought we’d have time to talk.”

  His face sank to concern. “Did they do something?”

  She waved away her words. “No, they’ve been great.” Now she questioned her plan to talk with him. “I just thought—”

  His hand raised, stopping her apology. “Good thinking. Alone time is difficult.”

  The weight of discomfort lightened.

  “Come in while I change.” He motioned to his attire before beckoning her inside.

  Although she considered going in, she had second thoughts and held up the rake. “I’ll get started.”

  He cocked his head, shrugged and disappeared.

  In a couple of minutes she’d made some progress, but when she heard the door close, she turned and waited for Mike to join her.

  Carrying a tarp along with his rake, he used his elbow to motion toward the house. “Would you rather talk first?”

  Again she fought her thoughts. His earlier reaction had given her pause. “It’s such a lovely day. Let’s get this done.”

  “Okay.” He grinned as he spread the tarp on the grass and dug in.

  Riddled with an image of Mike making the twenty-minute drive to the school to deal with another incident, her curiosity wouldn’t rest. “What do you do for a living, Mike?”

  “I’m a supervisor at Oscoda Plastics a few miles south on U.S. 23.”

  “You’re a boss?”

  He gave her a sad grin. “I am there.”

  His plight with the girls caused her lungs to empty. His vulnerability made him not only likable but appealing. Yet beneath his grin, Mike’s confidence sometimes buckled. Even though he tried to hide it, his dauntless effort failed. She was first drawn by his good looks, but today his kindness and gentle ways prickled up her arms. If she ever married one day, she would want a man like Mike—playful, sincere and with more patience than she could credit herself.

  “You’re quiet.”

  His voice jarred her thoughts and generated guilt, knowing she’d been thinking of him. “Preoccupied, I guess.” She managed a grin and dug into the leaves. “I was thinking about the girls.”

  Mike’s head lowered and he combed his fingers through his hair. “I figured you’d be concerned about having them in class.”

  “No, that’s not it.” His troubled expression made her wish she hadn’t introduced the topic. “I know you feel compelled to follow the principal’s suggestion to separate them, but…” She stopped raking and leaned her weight against the handle. “I suspect the girls might be worse for it. Not better.”

  He slowed the rake and rested his weight against it. “I had the same thought. I picture them at recess and here at home making up for the time separated.” His look grew intense. “But I thought you’d be relieved having only one to deal with.”

  “Me?” She pressed her hand against her chest. “No, not yet anyway.” She hoped to lighten the serious mood. Their conversation had drawn his lips into a straight line and stole the sparkle from his eyes. “I watched them with Grams today, and they were respectful to her and each other. I want to figure out what it is that works. I worry if they were in separate classrooms, they wouldn’t learn how to get along or how to show love instead of disrespect to each other. I’d really like a chance to work with them. At least to try.”

  His eyes searched hers. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” She cared about them. “I don’t think Mrs. Fredericks will insist on separating them. I believe she’ll leave the decision up to you.” A new thought fell into her mind. “If I can’t handle them, maybe then she’d put pressure on you to make a decision, but not now.”

  His tense shoulders dropped. “If you’re positive.”

  Amy wasn’t positive she could make a difference, but she was positive she wanted to try. “Yes, I am.” But Mike’s concern had been for her, and although it touched her, she preferred his focus to be what was best for the girls. Rather than stir up any more tension, she let her thought fade.

  He nodded as his rake hit the leaves again.

  After making a pile, Mike dragged the bundle to the backyard. Three trips with the tarp made quick work of the leaves, and soon he left the tarp behind and instead dragged the leaves directly to the pile. She longed to sit and talk about a lot of things; his wife’s death, the girls’ reactions then and how they handled it now. Instead she gave another yank of the rake.

  When the girls’ squeals vibrated from behind them, she and Mike stopped raking and spun around. The twins darted toward them, but they didn’t stop. Instead they barreled past, aiming for the leaf pile.

  Anticipating another disaster, Amy held her breath. But this time, they dived into different sides of the mound and came up laughing. The sight trapped her in memories. The leaves drifted into the air and scattered while her heart followed. Childhood recollections drove her limbs forward, and as she sprang toward the tempting heap, Mike flew past, scooped up leaves and pitched them at her. She grabbed a handful and dashed toward him, but as she’d swung her arm to toss the colorful ammunition, she stumbled.

  Mike dived forward and grabbed for her, but he missed. Both of them
tumbled into the pile while the girls giggled and tossed leaves their way.

  Dazed at her antics, Amy eyed Mike lying beside her, his tousled hair tangled in burnished rubble. Her heart rose to her throat.

  Mike bounded to his feet and leaned down to give her his hand. She grasped his and bolted upward into his chest. Standing nose to nose, her heart tumbling to her stomach as she gazed into his eyes.

  He gave her a squeeze. “Are you okay?”

  His warm breath trembled across her neck. “I’m fine.” But she wasn’t. The closeness sent chills racing down her back. She managed a chuckle, trying to ignore the sensation as she brushed the debris from her jacket.

  The girls darted from the pile, laughing at their disheveled appearance while pointing at the leaves caught in their dad’s hair.

  Mike shook his head, color in his cheeks alerting her of his embarrassment. “Leaves seem to bring out the child in me.”

  She gazed down at her jeans and jacket. “Me, too, it appears.” She evaded his eyes and looked at his leaf-entangled hair. She raised her hand and pulled some out, relishing the feel of his thick mane against her fingers.

  “Thanks.” His flush subsided as he strode toward Holly. “Let’s get you cleaned off before you drag it inside.”

  Amy shifted to Ivy, wanting something to distract her wavering emotions. She pulled leaves from the child’s jacket and plucked them from her ponytails. When she finished, she looked at the girls, their names ringing in her mind. “Ivy and Holly.” The girls turned and looked at her with question. “Where did you get those names?”

  “From our mommy and daddy.” Ivy grinned.

  “They’re Christmas names.”

  Holly slipped between Ivy and Amy, a leaf still caught in her hair. “Our birthday’s on December 24.”

  Amy heart clutched. “That makes sense.” She plucked the last leaf from Holly’s hair, then rested her hands on their shoulders. “Did you know there’s a song about holly and ivy?”

  Holly shook her head. “Sing it.”

  Instead Mike opened his mouth and the music flowed out. “The holly and the ivy, when they are both full grown, of all the trees that are in the wood, the holly bears the crown.”

  His rich baritone voice enthralled her. “Mike, you have—”

  “Why does holly wear a crown?” Ivy slammed her fists into her sides.

  “It’s the song, Ivy. I didn’t make up the words.” He gestured to Amy. “And apologize to Miss Carroll. She was talking and you interrupted.”

  “But—”

  “Apologize.”

  Ivy stared at her shoes. “Sorry.”

  Mike ignored Ivy’s lack of sincerity with her apology. “What were you saying?”

  “You have an astounding voice.”

  He flushed. “It’s been years. I don’t sing anymore.”

  “But you should.”

  His expression darkened for a moment before he found a grin. “Did you ever try to sing with two seven-year-olds under foot?”

  Holly shook her head. “We’re not under your feet.”

  He chuckled. “No, but you talk a lot.”

  Ivy gave Amy’s jacket a tug. “Daddy plays the guitar, too.”

  Amy’s senses twinged again. “Really?”

  “Guilty as charged, but like singing, I…” He shrugged. “I haven’t touched the guitar in a long time.”

  Ivy shook her head. “Sometimes at night when you think we’re sleeping, we hear you.”

  He gazed at them for a moment. “You know it’s not necessary to tell everything about me, right?” He raked his hair with his fingers

  “How come you don’t ever sing for us, Daddy?”

  He gazed at Holly, and Amy noticed a somber look sneak to his face. “I will.” He drew her closer and then reached for Ivy. “And I’ll tell you later the story about the holly and ivy so you understand why the holly wears the crown, okay?”

  The twins faces glowed.

  Hope slid through Amy’s veins. Somewhere inside the two children lived joy, and if she could find the secret to what else was going on, maybe the troublesome two could become the treasured twins.

  Her task settled in her mind. She’d do everything in her power to keep those girls in her class.

  Mike watched Amy cross the street, her rake like a shepherd’s crook. He shuffled the girls inside wondering how he could ever explain where his heart had been for so long. Holly’s blunt question about his singing had stirred up his emotions, as did Amy’s compliment. You have an astounding voice. The words could have been Laura’s. But she’d gone to heaven, and even though he didn’t understand why the Lord wanted her, God saw the big picture. He didn’t. She’d been the motor that revved his love of singing.

  Learning the girls had heard him playing the guitar served the same purpose. And Amy, too. His heart constricted. Her caring smile hovered in his mind like a melody. Just as Amy lingered in his thoughts, music couldn’t be forgotten either. It revived his spirit. Amy’s presence had done the same.

  “You said you’d tell us, Daddy.”

  Ivy’s voice broke his train of thought. He gazed at her sweet face and knelt on the kitchen floor, drawing the two girls into his arms. “Your mom always nagged me about singing and playing the guitar. Because she’s not here, I guess it left my thoughts.”

  “Did Mom leave your thoughts?”

  Holly’s troubled expression caused him dismay. “Never. I promised God to love her always, and I will, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have lots of love to share.”

  “With us?”

  “With you.” He paused, trying to word his next statement. “And maybe someday, I might meet someone who could be in our lives, too.”

  “Like Amy?”

  Ivy’s question tripped through his veins.

  “Someone like that. Someone who’s nice and likes both of you.”

  Holly’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe Miss Carroll doesn’t like us?”

  “I think she does, don’t you, Daddy?”

  Ivy’s response gave his answer. “Yes. She wants to keep you together in class.”

  “She does?” Their eyes widened.

  “Unless you cause her trouble, and then she won’t want to deal with your antics.”

  Holly scrutinized him again. “What’s antics?”

  “Your behavior. You know, how you act up sometimes.”

  Ivy gave her a poke. “Like choking me.”

  “Or tripping me.”

  “You both do things to each other. I know you still love each other, but sometimes it doesn’t seem that way to other people.” He drew the girls in closer. “Remember what you said the other day? You told me you were all you had?”

  They nodded. “You need to let people see how much you mean to each other. Hurting each other and misbehaving isn’t the way to do that.”

  Ivy straightened. “It’s Holly’s fault.”

  He tightened his grip before a new argument began. “It’s both of your faults. And that’s enough about it. I don’t want to hear another word.”

  They quieted, but he suspected each girl was working on a comeback. “Now, I’ll hand you a rake, Ivy, and I’ll get another one for Holly. Because you two were the first ones to spread the leaf pile, it’s your job to clean it up.”

  “But—”

  Without listening further, he handed Ivy the rake and headed to his shed. He didn’t turn around until he arrived at the storage unit and pulled out the rake. When he looked back, Holly had gotten on her knees and was dragging the leaves into the pile with her arms. Elation rippled over him. He loved seeing the girls work or play without arguing. Diving into the leaves had brightened everyone’s spirits. He hadn’t felt like that in years.

  “Here you go.” He handed Holly the rake, then relieved Ivy of hers.

  She didn’t argue but followed Holly’s example and tossed the leaves back into the pile. “Can we burn them?” She gazed up at him with a smile in her eyes.

  “Maybe la
ter tonight.”

  “Can we make s’mores?”

  He chuckled. “Not over the leaves, Holly, but maybe we can make some inside.”

  Ivy licked her lips. “Can we invite Miss Carroll? I bet she likes s’mores.”

  His chest tightened. “Not tonight.” He looked across the yard to Ellie’s house, wanting to include Amy in everything but cautioning himself to move slowly. To be certain. To understand his feelings and the ramifications.

  He started preparing their dinner, but his mind dwelt on Amy and the delicate situation. He really liked her, but it unsettled him. Having feelings for a woman other than Laura dragged him back to his dating days. But when he’d met Laura, his interest for any other woman had faded.

  After all those years, he wasn’t sure he could handle another relationship without feeling guilty. And what about the girls? Would familiarity with Amy make them too forward in school? That would never work. He pondered the idea for a moment before making a decisive decision.

  He had to cool it.

  Chapter Four

  Amy erased the blackboard and eyed the clock. She’d noticed buses arriving, and soon the halls would be quiet. Her first day on the job had been exciting. After her layoff in Chicago, teaching again so soon had seemed a hopeless dream. Yet here she was. She settled into her desk chair and breathed in the scent of chalk, floor polish and the beguiling scent of textbooks. She grinned.

  When she gazed at the empty rows of chairs, she had pictured the twins sitting close together, eyeing each other while temptation crooked a finger, but they’d been perfect. But Amy faced reality. Thinking the girls would remain perfect was definitely a lofty goal.

  Grams had a way with Ivy and Holly, but her only recommendation to Amy was to love them. She heaved a sigh. Mike loved them, but that didn’t work for him.

  The sound of quiet echoed in the halls—the hum of fluorescent lighting and the yawn of a distant door. She eyed the stack of papers on her desk and drew them toward her, wanting to grade them by tomorrow. She’d asked the children to write a paragraph on how they would spend Thanksgiving. Hearing how they would celebrate the holiday could give her an inside look at their families and their traditions. Coming into the semester late meant she needed a quick way to gain insight into her students’ lives.